People Change
by Magicallioness
Summary: Harry's serving detention, again. Things get even worse when Draco is the one to supervise it, or do they?


_Disclaimer: _  
_Anything belonging to the HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling and others who have bought the rights to meddle with her toys. Anything that's not is mine, unless stated otherwise. I'm just playing around here, not making money, so please don't sue. Coach Littelton is mine, though._

_Author's note's:  
Really don't have much to say about this. Warnings for explicit sex and boy on boy action. Don't like, don't read. My attempt at seductive Draco..._

**Summary:  
Harry has to serve detention, again. But it gets worse as Draco is the one to supervise it, or does it?**

**People Change**

I cringe as the portrait of the Fat Lady swings shut behind me and her shrill voice rings through the hallway with the moving staircases.

"Detention again, dearie?" she tries to sing-song, but fails miserably. I have to make a conscious effort not to put my hands over my ears at the sound.

"Yeah," I offer, feeling no need to elope any further. She's nosy as hell already and I don't want to encourage her.

I leap onto the staircase leading down as it swings towards me, my movements the exact opposite of my feelings. I'm jumping around like a happy man, but really I'm not. Neither a man, nor happy. It could just be the time of the year I muse. I know Christmas is supposed to be the season to be jolly and all that, but I just can't. I've hated Christmas ever since I was little. You're supposed to celebrate it with friends and family. I had neither and now that I have friends, I have no reason to celebrate. Voldemort has come back, Sirius is dead and the worst part is, it's all my fault.

I shake my head lightly to stop those thoughts as I step off the last staircase and head towards the trophy room. Honestly, I would've expected Filch to come up with a more original detention this time, but I guess he wasn't hired for his creativity.

I sigh and knock on the oak door. Nobody answers so I push it slightly ajar, revealing an empty room. Well, not exactly empty, it's packed with shelves and shelves of trophies and I wonder, as I do every time I enter this room, why all these trophies are put away in a dusty room rather than displayed throughout the castle. I jump at the sound of the door falling shut behind me and immediately berate myself for such cowardice. I'm a Gryffindor for crying out loud!

I've been jumpy for a while now, actually ever since Voldemort was resurrected. By my stupidity, I might add. Way to fucking go Harry! I'm not jumpy because I'm scared of him, really I'm not. It's just that I never know when he, or probably one of his Death Eaters, will attack me, and I don't plan on being an easy kill. Oh, he'll kill me eventually, I'm pretty sure of that, although I'm still trying to convince Ron and Hermione, but I will not be easy prey.

I jump again as Filch slams the door open and barges in. I wonder how he does that? He seems small and weak, but that door is very heavy.

"Right side of the room, Potter. Squeaky clean within three hours, starting now," he says as he pushes a cloth, a bucket and a tube of polish into my hands.

"And no magic!" he adds. Damn it! I really thought he was going to forget about that this time. I carefully rub my eyes under my glasses and get to work. I have to hurry if I'm going to finish in three hours.

The monotonous action of polishing makes me think and I loose myself in thoughts about the weight that was put on my shoulders and how it pushed me down. Down so far I had to crawl back up out of a depression some months ago. I'm doing better now, I really am, but the problems that caused my depression aren't. I don't want to be the saviour of the wizarding world, I really don't.

I freeze when I hear movement outside the door, followed by voices.

"I'm to take over Potter's detention from here mister Filch," a light, male voice drifts trough the wall. Then Filch's rasp follows.

"I'll make sure to work him hard sir," the light voice answers. I struggle to remember where I heard that voice before when the door is pushed open and the speaker enters, all blond hair and arrogant air.

Malfoy! Great, just fucking great! Now he's using his head boy status to torture me during detention! I ignore him and continue polishing the trophies, with much more furious movements now.

"So, you got your ass landed in detention again Potter?" he drawls. I just growl at him in answer, not even turning around.

"And what a nice ass it is," Malfoy mumbles. Now that gets me facing him.

"What was that?" I hiss, overly agitated for some reason. His eyes widen slightly at my sudden outburst. I was not supposed to hear that then? But the sneer on his face never wavers.

"Ooh, Potty's angry," he answers, infuriating me even more. He's such an arrogant little thwart! But I can't let him get to me, he's just yanking my chain, trying to get a rise out of me, maybe a fight and land me in another detention. I'm not taking the bait.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," I grumble and return to polishing. God, I hate doing this! And that's probably why Filch always makes me do it, during _every_ detention.

I stiffen as I suddenly feel something warm behind me. Malfoy leans in very close and his breath tickles in my ear as he whispers: "Ah, but I can't do that you know. I'm supposed to supervise your detention. "

I turn and push him away harshly, furious and scared. Scared by the shiver that ran down my back at feeling his breath in my ear. I know I play both sides of the pitch and I don't have a problem with that, but I am NOT attracted to Malfoy, in any way.

He is forced to take a few steps back to keep his balance and I glare daggers at him as he does so.

"That doesn't mean you have to invade my personal space, Malfoy!" I try to make his name sound disgusting, like he does with mine, but somehow, I fail.

As Malfoy straightens up, I see he's smiling at me. Smiling! Why in Merlin's name is the fucker smiling?

"Oooh, feisty. You look hot when you're angry Potter," he says, licking his lips. I have no comeback and turn around, bewildered. What the hell is he playing at? And why the hell do I feel so hot and bothered all of a sudden? Feigning polishing the trophy I'm holding, I watch his reflection walk around my back in a half circle.

I can feel my own eyes widen in shock as I notice he's checking me out. Malfoy's checking me out! My heart thunders in my chest and I try to convince myself it is because of shock and confusion, but I know it's not. I freeze when I'm shocked and I frown when I'm confused, my heart doesn't go haywire. It does when I'm pissed though, so I spin around, facing Malfoy again.

"What the hell is your problem, Malfoy?" I attack him. He's still smiling.

"No problem Potter. Only convenience," he answers brightly. That throws me off balance completely and I frown at him. I really don't get what he's on about.

Malfoy turns and goes about walking around the room, surveying the trophies. He doesn't speak until he's on the opposite side of the room.

"I'm supposed to supervise your detention Potter, which _conveniently_ lets me supervise you," he turns back around as he speaks the last word and I have to go back to polishing my trophy in a hurry to prevent him from seeing the blush that is creeping up my neck. I think he saw it anyway, because he snickers. Yeah, Malfoy actually snickers. And what in Merlin's name is wrong with me anyway? What's with the blushing? Just great, besides not understanding Malfoy, I've totally lost myself too now.

I hear him walking towards me again, but I try to ignore it. I know he's watching me, looking for any tensing or cringing and I don't want him to be able to read me, so I try to keep a neutral posture.

It's hard enough as it is but when Malfoy puts a hand on my shoulder I can hardly suppress the urge to jump. It gets even worse as I see the tip of his wand out of the corner of my eye. It's right next to my face, but he's not pointing it at me. I frown again. Why is it not pointed at my head?

All thought leaves me however, when his breath ghosts over the other side of my face as the words of a cleaning spell are carried past my ear. I watch brainlessly as every single trophy on the right wall is cleaned this way. I shiver at the loss of contact when Malfoy finally steps back and draws his hand away from my shoulder in an agonizingly slow movement.

For some moments I can't do anything but stare at the wall full of shining trophies, then I whirl on Malfoy, furious.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I yell in his face. His expression, eyes looking up at me from under his eyelashes, the left corner of his mouth pulled upward in a tiny half smile, never changes, but he does take a step back.

"Hhm, interesting choice of words," he hums, making me blink in confusion. I run the sentence around in my head, over and over again, but I don't understand what he finds so 'interesting' about it.

"Answer the goddamn question Malfoy," I hiss at him. I feel the heat bubbling inside my chest as my fists ball at my side in anger. I'm about to blow, I feel it and Malfoy sees it. His expression still doesn't change, but it's now frozen in place, the lines hardening almost imperceptively.

"I cleaned the trophies for you, Potter," he answers simply, but his voice is betraying the anger he's holding back. It's dropped a fraction and it sounds a little less smooth now.

"I fucking well know that! You used magic, I was not supposed to use magic," I'm yelling at him again, but I've dropped the volume somewhat. If I'm not careful, I'll get a hex hurled at my face instead of an answer.

"Filch'll never find out about that," Malfoy answers through clenched teeth. That half-smile has finally disappeared from his face and his mouth is pulled into a thin line, eyes narrowed at me. He looks pissed and frankly, that's a relief. I have seen Malfoy pissed off at me a hundred times before, I can handle this. I can handle this infinitely better than the Malfoy that came into the trophy room tonight.

"Of course he won't find out. He won't have to. You'll just go running to him now and tell him I've cleaned all the trophies using magic," I bite at him.

I was fully aware of the fact that I pissed him off royally, but I still yelp in surprise as Malfoy takes two steps forward and slams me into the wall. He smiles satisfactory at my yelp for a split second before his face, that is now uncomfortably close to mine, shifts back into that harsh expression.

"He will never find out, because he never checks. If he does, it will be on my head, since I'm supposed to supervise your detention, Potter," he spits out my last name like it's something vile and I can do nothing but stare into his eyes, frozen in place by the confusion his answer causes.

"What the hell?" I mumble and at that, Malfoy lets me go and takes a step back, although his eyes never leave mine. He's smiling that half-smile again.

"So, now that you've finished your detention, you have time for other … occupations," Malfoy says as he closes the distance between us again. I curse myself for not moving when I had the change. I'm still leaning against the wall between two shelves and now Malfoy has lined up with those shelves, blocking any escape route. It's only after I establish the fact that I'm trapped, that I recognise what he just said.

"What kind of occupations?" I ask as I narrow my eyes at him.

"Hhm, the fun-kind," Malfoy answers as he trails his index finger over my left cheek. I jerk my head to the side, but there's really no where for me to go. Malfoy chuckles.

"Now, now, Potter. No need to be shy," he tuts. I spin my head back around to face him. His finger leaves my cheek and I don't notice I'm tracing the burning line it leaves with my own fingers until it's too late.

Malfoy takes hold of my hand and softly kisses my fingertips.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I ask him as I jerk my hand away. The fucking bastard is seducing me! What kind of game is he playing? He's not really interested in me and I sure as hell am not interested in him, no matter how my cheek may burn or my fingertips may tingle.

Malfoy leans in until his forehead rests against mine and I can do nothing to stop myself from sucking in a sharp breath. He looks straight into my eyes, questioningly.

"You've beautiful eyes Potter, especially when you're angry. They become ablaze with some kind of fire, intriguing really," Malfoy answers.

Not the question I asked, I think weakly, but I can't find the strength to utter those words. Malfoy's complement makes my entire body glow and his soft tone is forming fog in my head.

I feel warm and fuzzy, but that soon stops as Malfoy lifts his forehead from mine. My mind clears quickly, anger setting in directly after. I grab Malfoy's shoulders and turn us around quickly. Now it's me pinning him against the wall and I can see by the look on his face that this wasn't what he expected. His eyes have widened and his lips are slightly parted in shock. I smirk at him.

"I'll ask you again Malfoy, what the hell do you think you're doing?" I sound a little hoarse and vaguely wonder why, but dismiss the question. First things first. Although Malfoy seemed shocked by my actions, he doesn't seem to be uncomfortable. He's smiling again.

"Having fun?" he offers. I try to retaliate, but all that comes out of my mouth is a gasp, because Malfoy traces a finger up both sides of my body. I should've grabbed him by the wrists, not the shoulders, I berate myself. I move my hands from his shoulders to his wrists and step in close to physically push him against the wall.

"What game are you playing Malfoy?" I try again. He smiles seductively and wiggles his hips against mine, drawing another helpless gasp out of my mouth.

"No games," he whispers, "just playing." And then he's kissing me. Before I know what has happened I feel soft, hot lips on my own. My whole body goes haywire when he nibbles my bottom lip. The glow that he put into my body with words erupts into a blazing fire at his touch. I feel like my heart is going to thunder out of my chest and in my tummy butterflies are dancing the tango.

My hands leave his wrists and slide up his arms to tangle in his shoulder length, silky blonde hair and I press my body even closer to his. I open my mouth willingly as he opens his and he moans as I take my turn to explore his mouth. His taste surprises me for some reason. It's not at all like him, it's sweet and soft and it reminds me of chocolate mints.

He's the one to end the kiss and I can't help but smirk because he's out of breath. That's only before I realise what we just did though. I step back and wipe my mouth unconsciously.

"What the hell is this, Malfoy?" I ask, determined to get a straight answer this time. His eyes are glazed over and it takes him a few seconds to answer me.

"I believe that's called kissing, although I never experienced it quite like this before," his voice is even hoarser than mine and I honestly can't help the heat pooling in my gut at his sultry sound.

"You know that's not what I mean Malfoy. You hate me," I persevere. I look him straight in the eyes, because I want him to know I'm serious. They've focused now, but the pupils are still dilated. I can hardly see the grey-blue rim that's his irises.

"I want you," he counters. Al the blood leaves my head at this point and I can feel very well where it's going. I can't believe Malfoy saying he wants me is giving me a hard-on, but the proof is agonizingly clear.

"You hate me," I repeat, turning away from him.

"I don't have to like you to want you," Malfoy tells me. And there it is, the answer to all my confusion and bewilderment. I don't have to like him to want him. I turn back and slam him against the wall in a fiery kiss. He kisses me back with the same intensity, not exploring but plundering my mouth this time.

"Good. I don't like you either," I say as I break the kiss. Malfoy nods in understanding and starts to trace a hot trail of kisses up my neck towards my ear. I moan as he nibbles my earlobe, my erection straining against my clothes.

"Care to take this someplace more … comfortable?" Malfoy whispers in my ear. Another shiver races up and down my spine as his tongue follows the trail he kissed upwards, downwards.

"What exactly do you want to take, Malfoy?" I ask suggestively. I'm laying the bait now and I know he'll take it, for the simple reason that he doesn't expect me to lay it. I smile as he does.

"You of course, Potter," he states matter-of-factly, rubbing his hands up and down my chest.

"Ah, but I'm not easy prey Malfoy. You'll have to catch me first," I say and take off.

I was pretty sure he'd follow, but I'm relieved nonetheless when I hear running footsteps behind me. We're playing a dangerous game here. Running through the hallways after hours, while I should be serving detention and he should be supervising me. Dangerous and therefore thrilling and, to me at least, highly arousing.

I know exactly where I'm going and I contemplate taking a little detour to throw Malfoy off course, but he's gaining on me. I can hear his running footsteps and puffing breaths behind me, so he has to be close. I risk a look over my shoulder and find out exactly how close. He laughs. Cheerful and honest. It rings through the hallway like a bird's song.

Somehow I'm not in the least worried about getting caught by other students or teachers, but overly so about getting caught by Malfoy, so I put in an extra burst of speed as I turn down the hallway where the room of requirement is in. I have to have enough time to walk up and down the hall in front of the door three times.

Malfoy comes skidding around the corner just after I start my third time. He's a really fast runner and I can barely slip inside the room before he makes it to the door.

The room looks stunning. It has Slytherin green and Gryffindor red Christmas decorations everywhere. The ceiling resembles the one in the great hall, but with only the star signs Draco and Leo. There are two Christmas trees, one decorated completely in silver, the other in gold. On the left side of the room is a bar with all kinds of drinks and in the middle, on a stage, is a huge bed covered with pure white, satin sheets.

Malfoy smirks as he walks into the room.

"I always figured you for a hopeless romantic mush Potter," he says, then he smiles, "but the bed is marvellous." I stand behind the bed and watch him as he slowly twirls around and takes in the entire room. He turns to look at me when I cast a locking charm on the door and a silencing charm on the room. I look at him with a cocky eyebrow raised.

"You still didn't catch me," I say and then I run, because he's moving before I even finish my sentence. We run around the bed a bit until Malfoy dives straight over it and tackles me. I hit the floor hard but the pain is immediately softened by demanding lips on mine.

It's hard French-kissing when you're so out of breath so Malfoy quickly moves from my mouth to my neck. I twist my hands in his hair and yank his head back harshly. His whimper turns into a long moan as I run my tongue up his pale flesh, all the way from the dip between his collarbones to his jaw line. It thrills me to hear him moan like that and I decide then and there, that I want to hear him moan my name, my real name.

I let go of his hair and softly rub his scalp. At firs he's kissing my neck but soon his head rests on top of my chest as I massage his scalp, his fingers tracing small circles over my belly. After a while I roll him off and get up, offering him my hand.

"Come on, let's go get something to drink," I tell him.

He takes my hand and I pull him up into my embrace, tasting his tongue one more time before the liquor runs over it.

"What do you want?" he asks as he pours champagne for himself. It's a little strange hearing it come from his mouth in a friendly kind of tone, instead of the defensive or angry one it's normally in.

"Whiskey," I answer, sounding as hoarse as he did earlier. Malfoy almost drops the bottle of champagne in surprise.

"Potter, you're not even eighteen, you're not allowed to drink that," he says in a mockingly scandalized tone, while pouring me a glass.

"I'll be eighteen in a few months. Besides, I'm not allowed to fuck you silly either and I'm planning on doing just that," I answer after taking a sip. I delight in the look of utter shock on Malfoy's face. He obviously didn't think me the type to talk dirty. He should go talk to Oliver or Angelina.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and Malfoy sits down on top of me, shamelessly straddling my legs. I can see his shaft standing up inside his pants and I have to resist the urge to rub it. Not yet, I want to make him moan my name remember?

Malfoy dips his right index finger in my glass and makes me suck it clean. I watch him hold his breath as I twirl my tongue around it and hollow my cheeks, sucking it softly. His breath escapes in a low moan as I slide the finger halfway out of my mouth, only to suck it back in while sliding it along my tongue. I smile wickedly at him as I take another sip of my drink.

He accepts the challenge and leans in to lick my lips, coating them with champagne. He pulls back when I open my mouth slightly, so all that's left to me is licking the champagne off my lips.

"You know Potter, I've never figured you for a faggot," Malfoy says slowly, as if he's just thought of it.

"I'm not," I answer immediately. He raises an eyebrow at me and empties his glass.

"I'm pretty sure you just promised me to fuck me silly," he counters and leaves my lap to put our glasses on the bar.

"I will, just like I did to Oliver and Angelina," I tell him. He laughs at that, the same genuine, playful laugh as before and I think I might want to make him laugh even more than I want him to moan my name.

"So you're the one that got Cold Angi to get all lovey-dovey," he says in understanding.

"Yeah," I mope, "it was horrible."

Malfoy laughs again as he returns to my lap.

"I won't go all lovey-dovey on you, promise," he says and the only reason I don't laugh at that is because he's kissing me. He tastes of champagne now, but the sweetness hasn't left his mouth. Good, I like sweet.

He starts kissing my neck again, nibbling on the soft spots every once and a while, but this time his trail goes down and his hands make quick work of my shirt buttons. I let myself be pushed back on the bed and I gasp as Malfoy racks his hands over my abs while his mouth is on my chest. His lips are softer than the satin sheets, his teeth sharper than a knife. He bites first then sooths the mark with his lips, finishing of with a lap of his tongue. The sensation leaves me breathless, yearning more softness on the burning spots he leaves, but wanting him to make more of those spots at the same time.

When he reaches the rim of my trousers, he runs one finger under it teasingly, just missing the tip of my aching cock and I moan loudly, egging him on, encouraging him to go further, but he goes back up instead. This time his tongue is in charge, leaving wet, hot trails along my belly and trailing lazy circles around my nipples. I squirm in anguish as he takes his time to reach them and I arch up into him involuntarily as he sucks on the right one. He smiles around it and gives it a little lap of his tongue before moving to the other one.

By the time he's finished, my entire body is on fire. I can feel the blood rushing through my veins as I pull him up for a fiery kiss. I only break it to pull his shirt up over his head and roll us over, placing me on top. His body looks awesome. He gives the impression of being thin, but really, he's not. He's slightly less wide than I am but he's not thin. I watch the six-pack outline sharply as I run my hands over his abs experimentally and he reacts by tightening them instinctively.

I let my hands roam further and rake my nails over his chest, satisfied with the goose bumps I see appearing on his porcelain skin. He firmly grasps my butt as I bend over to lick his collarbones and I smile as he breathes out 'nice ass,' hoarsely.

I kiss and lick all over his chest, trying to find the places that make him moan and remembering them for later. He squirms as I move down to his belly and he grabs my shoulders when I don't relent.

"Don't, tickles," he pants but I'm not about to let him off. I grab his shoulders and push him back down.

"Stay still," I command and push his arms down on the bed as he brings them up again to protest. All his abs tighten again as I trace my tongue over one of them. He mews when I bite down on the sensitive skin just above his belt and this time when I trace an ab with my tongue he doesn't contract them. I repeat the process multiple times until he stops wiggling. I glance up through my eyelids and am treated to a vision of perfect beauty.

Malfoy's head is tilted back, eyes closed, the lips lining his slightly opened mouth forming the words I want him to say. His chest rises and falls swiftly in quick, panting breaths. I run a finger over the erection in his pants teasingly.

"Ah," he gasps and sits up straight in one fluid motion. He claims my mouth feverishly, tangling his hands in my hair and pulling me impossibly close. I loose my shirt during the kiss and once it's of Malfoy's hands leave my hair and unbutton my pants. I sigh in relief as some of the strain on my cock lessens. God, I'm hard. I open Malfoy's pants and push off the bed.

We're in our shorts in no time and Malfoy stands to walk around me. He traces a finger behind the rim of my shorts as he does so. When he's facing me I can see his eyes are completely glazed over again, but more importantly I notice his length pushing up against his underwear. He smiles wickedly at me when he sees I'm staring at him and moves in for a soft kiss. I'm surprised at my own, high-pitched moan as Malfoy sucks my bottom lip.

Apparently that's what he was looking for, because he pushes me back onto the bed and practically jumps me. He lies on top of me and the heat of his entire body covering my own is making me sweat. He places his hands on either sides of my face and leans on his elbows, while kissing me softly. I can't explain it, but something has changed along the way. Instead of fiery and passionate, he's being soft and gentle now, like he's afraid to hurt me.

I ground my hips into his, rubbing our erections together to show him he's not hurting me. He reacts immediately and returns the movement while his kiss intensifies. I let my hands travel up and down his back, using my nails every once and a while as Malfoy moans every time I do that.

He doesn't stop his movements until I slide of his boxers and he only stops long enough to kick them off. I pull a strand of hair out of his face and roll us over, straddling him when the turn is completed. Malfoy shakes his head, then points at my boxers and says "off." I've reduced him to single word sentences, good.

I smile and pull off my boxers, then settle back on his hips again. He smiles at me and strokes a finger along my length. I moan and throw my head back, which he takes as encouragement. He wraps graceful fingers around me and starts stroking slowly. To me each stroke is like I'm struck by lightening. It never felt like this before, it's like he's charging me with electricity just by touching me.

He stops as I touch him too. I trace a finger around the head, spreading the pre-cum around. He bucks his hips and moans at me.

"Please, God, please."

It's all the encouragement I need. I grab him at the base and dip down. He mews in surprise as I lick him from the base to the top. It turns into a high-pitched moan as I swirl my tongue around his head, revelling in the musky taste. I have to push his hips down onto the mattress as I continue my ministrations, because he starts bucking up into my mouth.

I use one hand to stroke and knead his balls when he calms down somewhat. I can tell he likes that because his cock twitches in my mouth.

"Oh Jesus Potter, you're good, so goooood," he pants, drawing the last word out in a low moan as I use the tip of my tongue to tickle the little triangle at the base of his head. I smile around him as his hands start groping for me. Apparently he thinks it's his turn. I give him one last, slow ride up and down my throat before releasing him and crawling back up for a kiss. He's more than happy to oblige.

I break the kiss and roll over on my back to give him space but he takes his chance to flee. He dives off the bed and goes for his pants. I sit up in surprise and anger, but he's back with me before I can say a thing.

"We're going to need these," he says, holding up four condoms. I kiss him softly as he pushes the condoms under a pillow.

"I'm glad you came prepared," I say softly and for the first time since I've known him, he smiles at me. A true, genuine smile that reaches his eyes. I sigh as he pushes me down on the bed and kisses his way to the lower part of my belly, while his hands rub my inner thighs. It's driving me nuts and I can hardly muffle a cry as he finally takes me into his mouth.

"God Malfoy, you're so hot," I tell him between breaths, as he starts pumping me in sync with his mouth. I need him to stop way to soon, but if he keeps this up I'm going to come and I don't want to, not in his mouth anyway.

"Turn around," I tell him, opting for a distraction. He looks at me quizzically for a moment but does what I ask him and continues his ministrations. I put one finger in my mouth and wet it, then I slide it along the small path between Malfoy's balls and his entrance. He groans around my cock, the vibrations making it twitch, and moans wantonly as I do it again. I start a slow circling motion and notice, not without satisfaction, that my distraction-technique is working. Between moans Malfoy hardly has time to suck my dick.

He lowers his ass a bit closer to my face in a desperate attempt to heighten the pressure. Instead, I pull my finger away.

"Please…don't…stop," Malfoy pants. I smile, because I don't intend to: I'm sucking on two fingers now, but he can't see that. I start rubbing the spot with my tumb in a slightly higher pace.

"Yes, oh, yes. That's so good Potterrrr," he turns the last letter of my name into a long, gasping purr as I slide my index finger inside him, while keeping up the rubbing with the other one. He has completely stopped giving me head, but I don't mind. His moans and gasps are so delicious, him touching me would set me off immediately.

He rests his head in my lap and pushes his butt up, when I slide a second finger in, stretching him. I know what he wants, so I brush my fingers over that magical spot and am rewarded with a cry from Malfoy. Good, very good, in just a few minutes now Malfoy, you'll be begging 'Harry' to make you come.

I bring him to the edge, listening to him moaning unintelligible words but pull out just before he comes. He growls in protest and turns around to face me. He looks beautiful. His face is flushed and he's sweaty, making his hair stick to the back of his neck. His pupils are impossibly dilated and his white teeth are bared at me in the growl I heard seconds before.

"You want more?" I ask, reaching for the condom under the pillow. He kisses me in answer grabbing the condom himself and expertly putting it on me. He kisses me again before he turns us around.

"Now," he says, "be a good Gryffindor and do what you promised." I position myself in front of his entrance and lick the salty sweat out of his neck and off his chin, waiting for him to make a move. This needs to be done in his own pace and I'll try my very best to hold back. We both gasp as he slides down, pushing my head inside of him. I ball my hands to fists in the bed sheets and bite my lip to prevent myself from just ramming into him.

"Oh God, you're so tight Malfoy," I say shakily. It's all he needs, suddenly I'm imbedded in his tightness to my balls. Malfoy pulls me down for a searing kiss to stop me from moving immediately. Good call.

When the kiss is over I softly pull his legs up to my shoulder. I don't want him tiring himself out by holding his ass up. I pull out of him until only my head is inside and then I slowly slide back in. Malfoy moans all the way, his back arched, his head thrown back. I figure he's ready for me and start a slow pace, making sure to hit his prostate every time.

I'm beginning to wonder how long I can take this, when Malfoy starts begging.

"Please … more … faster … please … Potter," he moans between thrusts. I don't answer his prayers, even though it's taking me more effort with every thrust, I won't answer until he uses my proper name. He tries to speed up the pace by moving faster himself, but I take hold of his hips, stopping him.

"Ah … Potter … please," he whimpers, but still I don't oblige. Instead I take a hold of his cock, pumping it in time with my thrusts. I'm moaning with every thrust now, desperately trying to stop myself from slamming into him faster. He moans too and I can see he's almost painfully hard, almost ready to come, so I slow down my pace, even though I'm already painfully hard myself.

"Nooo … please," Malfoy wails, "don't slow … down, please!" It's then that he finally opens his eyes and sees the determined look on my face. And as he always does somehow, he understands me.

"Faster Harry … please, faster," he moans and this time I let go. Hearing him moan my name, makes it impossible for me to do otherwise anyway. I slam into him over and over again, while he keeps moaning my name loudly.

"Harr … rrry, Harrr … rrry!" he says, over and over again, purring the r in my name. I gasp and pant as I ride him, feeling the familiar white heat pool in my balls. I look at him and see he's just as ready as I am, so I rub my thumb over that little triangle and bent over to kiss and lick the places on his tummy that made him moan before.

"So … hot … Draco … you're … so … hot," I moan his name too now, finding permission in my name rolling off his tongue repeatedly.

"Oh God … make … me … come … Harry … please … make … me … come," Draco begs and I do just that. We scream each others names as I empty myself in him and he releases his juices al over his own body. I have just enough energy left to pull out and roll on my side next to him, but my leg stays over his and my right arm is slung over his chest.

When I finally come down and catch my breath, Draco … I mean Malfoy has put his left arm over mine and is holding my hand that lies on his chest. I squeeze his softly before I untangle my hand and roll over on my back. He turns his head and watches me with shining eyes as I throw away the used condom and pick up my wand.

His eyes darken when I point it at him.

"Going to Obliviate me now, Harry?" he asks, realizing too late he's still using my first name. I just mutter a cleaning spell and Dra-Malfoy giggles as it makes quick work of the mess on his tummy. Yeah, he actually giggles. And then he says the words I never, ever expected him to say to me.

"Thank you," he mutters as he rolls on his side and snuggles up to me, as if in excuse for distrusting me before. I put an arm around him carefully, twisting my wrist so I can massage the base of his scalp and he sighs in pleasure.

"Harry?" he murmurs against my neck, as I pull the blanket over us.

"Yes?" I answer, wondering how he can stand the heat of lying so close to me under a blanket. Neither Oliver, nor Angelina could take it, saying I was way to 'hot'.

"Will you stay here with me tonight?" I can feel him tense slightly in anticipation and I understand the risk he's taking by asking this and that he really wants me to stay.

"I'd like that Draco, I'd like that," I say and with a soft sigh the warm body next to me relaxes. I resume massaging his scalp and he's asleep within minutes.

He's gone when I wake the next morning, but the bed is still warm, so it couldn't have been long. I curse when I hear voices outside in the hallway. I don't know what time it is, but it must be late already. The room of requirement turns empty as I dress in a hurry. Something starts to beep as I button up my shirt.

Looking around, I locate a watch near the place where the bed was just minutes before. It's a wizards watch and it's glowing red, indicating that there's a message. Dra-Mal … no, he's unmistakably Draco now, I don't know why exactly, but I can't bear to call him Malfoy anymore. Draco must've forgotten his watch this morning.

I pick it up and slide it into my pocket, noticing it's seven thirty, half an hour before breakfast. When I'm completely dressed, I'm faced with a problem: how am I supposed to sneak out of the room, with this beeping watch in my pocket? I can't very well leave it here, so I sigh and take it out of my pants, along with my wand.

"Monstrare," I mutter and point my wand at the watch. I sigh in relief as it stops beeping, instead Draco's voice fills the room.

"_Mornin' Harry."_ He sounds sleepy.

"I didn't want to wake you, but I figured you for a long sleeper, so I set my watch for you. It's seven thirty now, which means you have half an hour left to get your lazy, but beautiful, ass to breakfast. See you there."

I put the watch back into my pocket, sneaking out of the room with a goofy smile spread across my face. I take a quick shower and make it to breakfast just in time.

Ron and Hermione are already there, suitcases for the Christmas holidays next to their chairs. We chat as usual, the both of them promising to buy me great presents for Christmas. I laugh and tell them they'd better, for leaving me alone out here during the holidays. It's a joke, but the stinging pain in my chest tells me there's some truth to it. I've been alone my entire life and I hate it.

I let my sight roam around the great hall to prevent them from seeing the truth to my joke and I spot Draco sitting at the Slytherin table. He looks immaculate as ever, but I can see the change in his eyes, more importantly I felt it happen last night. Something is different about the Slytherin prince.

I wave Ron and Hermione off with a smile on my face, but tears in my heart. Once again, I'm celebrating Christmas on my own. I sigh and retreat to the Gryffindor dormitory engrossing myself in homework and praying this holiday ends soon.

The following week makes me doubt my earlier observations about Draco. He's acting like the same selfish pratt he was before, when I see him during meals. We all sit at the same table now, because only a handful of students stay during the Christmas holidays and he's nasty to everybody, me included.

I'm worried, because now his insults and nasty comments truly hurt, they stung before, but now they hurt. I remember what he told me and tell myself I was stupid to believe him. He told me the truth, but only a half truth, which is just as bad as a lie. I didn't have to like him to want him, but he never told me I would be unable to hate him after I'd had him.

What's worse, I carry his watch around in my pocket like a love-sick puppy and I replay his message every evening before I go to sleep. I'm not in love with him, really I'm not, but I can't hate him anymore either.

Homework gets left forgotten on my desk as I worry about this more and more often as Christmas Eve is drawing near. I'm behind on schedule again when it arrives and I really don't care. I sit in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room alone, all other Gryffindors have gone home, and I stare and think about how much I actually hate my life, when a tap on the window causes me to jump.

I'm still giving myself a speech about the jumping when I open the window and a coal black owl flies in. That's weird, I never saw a black owl before, let alone that species. It lands on my shoulder and softly nibbles my ear to get my attention.

"Alright doll," I tell it as I give, I think it's her, an owl treat, "here you go and I'll take that letter from you." She doesn't move from my shoulder when I settle back into the chair. Instead, she puffs her feathers and waits as I read the letter.

_Harry,_

_Yes, I'm actually still calling you that. I know I promised not to go all lovey-dovey on you and I won't, but I'm taking the liberty to at least keep calling you Harry._

_Like you, I have no friends left here to celebrate Christmas with and although I have a family, I'm not welcome there during Christmas. Basically why I'm writing to you is this: I don't want to spend another Christmas on my own and you're the closest thing to a friend I have left. Would you come and spend Christmas Eve with me?_

_I understand if you don't want to,_

_Draco_

_Or perhaps I should say,_

_Malfoy_

So the prince of Slytherin did change after all. The closest thing to a friend he's got left? Well the same goes for me and I hate spending Christmas on my own, so why not? I bravely deny any other reason that comes popping up in my head and I stubbornly ignore the butterflies dancing around my tummy, as I get up and find a quill and a piece of parchment.

_Draco,_

_I seem to be unable to call you Malfoy after that night…_

_Yes, I would like to spend Christmas Eve with you. Besides, I still have your watch. Meet me at the room of requirement in two hours?_

_Harry_

I tie the letter to the owl's, Draco's owl's, leg and send her off. Then I start acting like a silly schoolboy with a crush and go about taking a shower, combing my hair, helplessly trying to figure out what to wear, all sorts of silly stuff. Just when I'm about to leave, the owl is back. I wonder what this is about and I can't help but smile as I read the note.

_Harry,_

_Meet you there._

_You can keep the watch._

_Love,_

_Draco_

The prince of Slytherin has definitely changed. It's only after I discover my delight at having been given his watch that I realize he's not the only one. That night, that one night, it changed the both of us.

I smile as I find Draco waiting for me in front of the door to the room of requirement, looking his Sunday-best. He walks up to me, sporting a smile of his own and surprises me with a long, sweet kiss. I push him back by the shoulders and take a look at him.

"What?" he asks, a little irritated. I shake my head.

"This is not the Draco I know," I tell him. He just shrugs and pulls me inside the room.

"People change," he whispers and I can do nothing but agree as he kisses me again.


End file.
